A Champion's Burden: An Elder Scrolls Tale
by diosoth
Summary: It is the third year of the 4th era and the Champion of Cyrodiil must deal with strife in the Shivering Isles, the pending collapse of the Empire, and her own love life, and either one could cause her to lose her sanity. Attempts to be as lore-friendly as possible with my preferred Oblivion PC and personal interpretations of things.


Author's notes:

I play a rather mod-heavy Oblivion environment and a lot of the content  
in this fiction will reflect that. I'm not too concerned with breaking  
lore though. Cyrodiil was only 16 square miles in the actual game due  
to space compression, opposed to the several thousand square miles it  
should've been, so I'm not worried about a building being in a place  
it's not "supposed to" be.

For easy reference, I will be referring to these mods and content from  
them, among others. I won't list all the minor clothing and weapon  
mods but may make reference to those-

AranMathi player home  
Verona House Bloodlines  
Lost Spires  
Knights Of The Nine Revelations  
Heart Of The Dead  
A Brave Old World  
Oscuro's Oblivion Overhaul  
Daggerfall Memories - Cybiades  
Trade And Commerce

I play a "good" character- Fighter's Guild, KOTN, etc. I'm not giving  
much to Bethesda's vague statements from Skyrim- I don't believe  
"a fox" and "a severed head" are more than vague and don't properly  
canonize anything. If Bethesda wants to make certain things canon then  
they should make more linear games with no freedom. As far as the fates  
of the other guilds, we will assume that someone else fulfilled those  
roles.

Katriana is a character from Heart Of The Dead, one of the two  
characters you will side with in the mod. I'm sticking to my own  
character's name despite both being very close.

I will assume the reader has played Oblivion, SI and most of the  
official plug-ins, and will probably not go into great detail  
on many things. I will describe some of what was covered by game  
mods, but not too heavily.

* * *

4E 3

The Empire of Tamriel was dead.

Perhaps now, the rickety remnants held together, for what little  
remained to keep the peace. However, the Emperor was dead, Martin had  
given his life to defeat Mehrunes Dagon and the Elder Council was  
barely a force to maintain order.

Black Marsh and Elsweyr had already split away, Gareth's bid for  
power had nearly torn the land apart in tyranny and war, and it  
had been clear to some that the Altmer sought a return to the old ways.

And the Champion... what did they call her? "Hero of Kvatch"? "Hero of  
Bruma"? "Champion of Cyrodiil"! How few knew the real truth of what a  
lone escaped prisoner merely in the right place at the right time had  
done to prevent Tamriel from becoming a burning wasteland. How few  
would know the hardships, the risks of going into the Deadlands, the  
unexpected trials that she was constantly given.

Did it matter? Was the state of the Empire really a sign that they  
had won? This woman knew more than anyone what seemed to be in the  
hearts of many Altmer. Umbacano had used her as a tool in a bid for  
power, sending a willing pawn off to search for the keys he needed  
to revive a dead empire. Umaril's return had been a mere hint of what  
was to come next. Sir Gareth has all but sacrificed the Knights Of The  
Nine and almost altered history to reclaim Ayleid rule, and if not for  
that wizard, the Champion would never have returned to end his rule.

The fate of the Empire. Oh, if only she had been appointed Empress!  
Certainly the Elder Council, and most of the people of Cyrodiil would  
support a decision, allowing Martin's friend the position. Certainly  
with her willingness and strength, the Empire could be reunited, or  
have even remained intact.

But such things are impossible. Her need to be a hero forced on her a  
lordship that ended such an idea before it began for the hero had  
become Sheogorath. Her humanity would be slowly but surely drained  
as this power took hold. She had made vague excuses to Ocato to avoid  
such a request, but knew that someday soon they would make a formal  
proposition, and how to deny that... doing so could tear apart the  
Empire's decaying remnants. How would the people react? What new  
tyrant would attempt to fill an empty position?

If only she had stayed out of that idiotic portal. If only she'd  
given up on the whims of the Madgod. The pain of having a noble heart  
could mean that saving one land deemed another to die, and that's  
what she had done. By coming to this realm and doing what was needed,  
by playing Sheogorath's game, the people of the Shivering Isles may  
have been saved, but Tamriel would suffer without their hero.

Sheogorath. Was that to be her name now? if this poor woman even had  
a real name, she never knew. The orphan caretakers had simply called  
her by their preferred name. Tamriel knew her by many names, all  
titles, but her real name?

The future was uncertain but looked bleak. To have been to the future  
and still know nothing. That damn portal to another land was meant  
to have been a simple expedition, yet she had been thrown three  
hundred years forth to that new land. Three hundred years. Befriending  
the forest elves, becoming a dragon rider, yet almost no knowledge  
of the fate of the Empire was to be found. She only knew it may have  
still existed, but even the people she met on that journey had no idea  
for they were merely descendants of those who had fled Tamriel.

It was pure luck that she had been able to come back at all. Would she  
ever see her dragon friend again? This task of becoming the new Madgod  
was even less certain for almost no mention of the Daedra were found.  
It seemed this new land had no need to worship or acknowledge them.  
What if this power hoisted upon the Champion was temporary? What if  
Sheogorath's gambit to stop the Greymarch had given her power to do  
so? There was no guarantee this power would change her.

Perhaps it could simply be declined and given away? She could throw the  
staff away and return to Cyrodiil, become Empress and unite the land.

Unfortunately, no one was fit to be given such power. Not one  
inhabitant of the Shivering Isles was fit to rule. Most were barely  
fit to exist in any type of society for they were all mad. They barely  
functioned in this realm of madness. Abandoning such power could only  
allow another Prince to claim it, and she would allow none of them  
such power, certainly not at even the slightest chance that  
Mehrunes Dagon himself would do so.

Oh, how she feared his retribution. It could be any day now that Dagon  
would attack the Shivering Isles. Mere paranoia? Knowing that the  
entity you denied a victory to could show up any time was hardly  
paranoia! She may have had the title of Madgod but was still no Daedric  
Prince.

There was only one person that gave the Champion hope now...

* * *

"I have no wish to visit Tamriel. It has never been of interest to me,  
nor will it ever be." Haskill merely sat, ignoring the food as he did  
ever morning. "If what Lord Sheogorath tells me is true, then Mundus  
is even worse off now than it was before."

The red-haired Elf woman could not understand Haskill at all. "Don't  
you get bored being here all the time?"

He replied, "my duties keep me sufficiently occupied. I must admit,  
if Cyrodiil were in any way as it were described in some of the books,  
it would be a tempting journey to make. Dragons swimming in the rivers,  
fanciful plant life, and all that. Pity your authors had to paint such  
a colorful portrait of a dull land." Haskill had a point that no  
one seemed to argue with- Cyrodiil was merely forests, plains, hills,  
mountains and farms with only a few cities and ruins dotting the  
landscape. "My Lord may have been better off coming here, as would  
anyone who wishes to flee the turmoil. Considering the state of Mundus,  
you are most certainly better off where you are now."

The Elf saw no need to argue with the Chamberlain. "We will be  
returning today, she will be stepping down from the Fighter's Guild  
and we have other things to deal with."

"Ah, yes, I do recall her saying that there was business to take care  
of. Do try not to be gone too long, and please make sure she doesn't go  
off on any unplanned adventures this time."

The Elf simply said, "if not for her adventures, she would not have met  
me. Or saved Tamriel numerous times." The Elf was perhaps the closest  
the Champion had to a family, and now, the Champion was the closest  
she had to one.

Glancing at the throne, seeing no sign of his Lord, Haskill muttered,  
"I hope she has not run off on us again. I would have expected her  
to be to breakfast by now."

"Let her sleep," Kat replied back, "she's had a lot on her mind  
and hasn't been getting much rest. I will also have you know that  
she's been worried about what to do with the army of this land. You  
might not think it's more peaceful here than in Cyrodiil if you paid  
more attention."

Looking around the great hall gently, Haskill was quick to notice what  
she had meant. Aureal and Mazken stood on their assigned sides of the  
palace, doing their jobs, but somehow, just now, the Chamberlain saw  
the look in their faces. All he could say was, "oh, my..."

The two Daedric armies, the Dark seducers and Golden Saints, been a  
constant presence in this land serving Sheogorath. The Madgod has  
always taken a strong degree of joy from the constant conflict  
between both sides, each believing themselves to be the favored of  
their god. Unfortunately, that changed when the title was passed and  
now there was a new Sheogorath. Each seemed uncertain of who was  
favored in the eyes of this newcomer, and it appeared that tensions  
were soon to break. the Champion herself feared this especially, as  
a civil war here could easily allow Mehrues Dagon a chance to invade  
and take revenge.

"I see my Lord has finally joined us." Haskill almost smiled- almost-  
as Sheogorath sat at the table. Her purple dress was a far cry from  
the armor she was accustomed to but at least wearing the clothing  
if the Madgod seemed more fitting than armor did while in this land.

"Sleep well, my love"?

"Slept, yes. Well... has Kat been talking you to death again,  
Haskill?"

He answered, "not at all. It would be rather boring without some degree  
of conversation."

"That's good," she said. "I know you don't eat yet you're here at the  
table with her almost every morning."

Katriana. Perhaps the only one that gave the Champion any real comfort  
in these darker times. They had met on an adventure the year before,  
a chance meeting that still haunted her. No, it was not Katriana  
that was a cause for bad memories, but her father's actions. Inar  
had duped her as Umbacano had, only that time the power-mad Elf had  
gone too far. It was pure chance that Katriana showed her any  
affection, kissing her in that lodge. It had been a buried secret,  
the Champion's interests in other women, that only few knew of and  
one she chose not to flaunt. No one in the Shivering Isles minded  
but most of them were insane and couldn't care one way or the other.  
the majority were loyal to her as Sheogorath.

Watching her die still hurt. Inar led his brianwashed daughter into that  
chamber and cut his own blood down as a sacrifice. How she took  
joy in gutting Inar in battle, that damned Ayleid who had survived the  
many centuries. No, she did not fault Katriana for being half  
Ayleid. She could not. She hated the Ayleid, having been dragged to  
the First Era and witnessing their rule directly. She hated Inar.

Katriana... being told she could save her lover was perhaps the only  
thing that kept her from falling apart. At times, she didn't know why  
she'd crossed the veil- destroying the heart of the dead was important,  
no one would argue such a necessity, but traveling into the void of  
death to recover the woman she loved was perhaps more important to  
her than a mere task.

What was it first that the Champion noticed? That long red hair?  
The freckles? Their first night together she could barely hold  
back indulging in such beauty. Certainly she was beyond the typical  
sights in Cyrodiil. The Champion herself was only average by  
comparison. Plain yellow hair, an average face, her muscle tone was  
the only aspect of note for she was built almost like a Nord now,  
which was uncommon for an Imperial, though slashing a sword and  
running around in heavy armor left their mark.

"Kitrina! Are you sure you're not still asleep?"

"Huh?" Hearing her name snapped the Champion out of those thoughts.  
No Hero, no Champion, no Sheogorath. It was the name her caretakers had  
given her yet so few called her by it. Haskill had a habit of  
preferring Sheogorath, or Lord, or some combination. Much of Cyrodiil  
didn't even know her real name. Jauffre and Baurus would, on the rare  
occasion she saw either.

Thankfully, no one made any jokes about the couple having similar names.  
At least, not to her face, at any rate, though very few were foolish  
enough to provoke a woman who had closed Oblivion gates.

"Maybe we should postpone the Fighter's Guild meeting until tomorrow  
and let you get some rest," Kat suggested with a smile.

"No," Kit mumbled. "Well do it today. If I put that off any longer,  
Mordryn Oreyn will probably have a heart attack in frustration.  
Besides," pausing to stuff a sweetroll down her throat, "they need  
someone who can devote full time and I haven't engaged in guild  
business for to long. I think Azzan would be a better guildmaster."

"Poor Burz gro-Khash, he was hoping to be named." Kat knew there were  
only two choices, and she'd figured the Orc to be the likely candidate.

Kitrina shrugged. "He might be stronger but the guild needs a public  
face and Azzan is more qualified."

Haskill remarked, "what my Lord means is, the Orc was a bit of a  
pompous jerk, from what I was told of the guild."

"He called me 'meat'," Kit grumbled.

"Ah, well, the Orcs are not known for their manners," the Chamberlain  
commented. "And I suppose, given your position above him, that the old  
saying holds true, that payback can be a-"

Haskill cut short. "I do apologize, my Lord, I did not intend to refer  
to you as a..." The usually stoic Haskill had a slight expression on  
his face. "Such behavior is more fitting for unsophisticated mortals.  
I do believe I may have been conversing with mortals far too much  
recently and it's began to influence me."

Brushing off the remark, Kitrina said, "we'll be back tomorrow. After  
guild business we... want some time to ourselves. It's been awhile  
since we got in- you know what I mean!"

"Of course. I do not judge you for mortal desires," Haskill replied  
back. "As usual, I shall tend to the business of the realm. You've  
left me to that task many times before and this shall be no  
different. Speaking of tasks," the immortal muttered, "there is  
still the matter of selecting the new Duke of both Mania and Dementia.  
It has been three years."

Yawning, followed by gulping out of a nearby bottle of wine, Kit  
grumbled back, "I know it's been three years but can you name one  
person in this realm qualified?"

"If you refer to their mental state," Haskill groaned, "both prior  
holders of the thrones were not exactly sane when they were given  
the tasks."

"And who appointed them?"

"Point taken," the Chamberlain said quietly.

Kitrina stretched out, joints popping loud enough to make Kat wince.  
"I know I don't do things the way Sheogorath did. I'm not him. He left  
me the power and the realm to stop the Greymarch. I have to run things  
as I see fit now. If you have any objections..."

Maintaining his usual stoic expression, Haskill responded, "none at  
all. This is your realm now and we have pledged loyalty to you. If not  
for you, many here would have likely died and the guard have accepted  
you without question."

"I'll get around to it. Today I have to wrap up business with the  
guild. There's also the matter of the knights Of The Nine, eventually  
they'll have to be told the truth. I also want to stop by the  
Archaeology Guild briefly."

"Why?" Kit asked, puzzled. "You already appointed a new guildmaster."

The Champion answered, "I'm wondering if they learned anything of that  
odd artifact I found near Bruma." The artifact. It was a strange  
metallic object that most certainly seemed to be of a culture unknown.  
Unusual curved shapes, writing in a familiar language but unknown  
words, and that bow she found beside it was also a mystery. It was  
unlike any weapon invented in Tamriel. So many small parts, it was not  
a simple flexible piece of wood or metal. "I need to find what  
I did with that paperwork as well before we leave."

"Please tell me you didn't lose it!" Kat whined.

"Of course not. I moved all of my important papers and many books here  
last month but I never did get them organized."

Finished with breakfast, the Elf simply said, "not a problem. Ahjazda  
wanted help moving a large stock of goods from her store to  
Common Treasures and I offered my assistance. It seems Tilse Areleth  
bought much of what Ahjazda had no room for."

"That's not surprising," Kit remarked, "she'll buy almost anything  
just to own it."

"That is what your predecessor enjoyed most of the people who lived  
here," Haskill remarked. "Insanity has many forms, a variety of  
behaviors that many would often label as abnormal. The Dunmer  
shopkeeper must own objects, as meaningless as they may seem. No doubt  
a harmless trait but one that would cause some to scoff in disgust.  
Even so, it is mild compared to that Bosmer who has a habit of  
stealing. I fear that is a more advanced form of the same psychosis,  
and one that will likely cause trouble."

"Or get him into the Thieves Guild," Kitrina grumbled.

"I imagine you will wish me to fill in for you should one of the  
many mortals in Tamriel summon you?" Haskill has become accustomed to  
speaking to mortals in such a manner, for it kept the secret safe  
as well as covering for the adventurer when she would vanish.

* * *

Papers.

Papers, papers, papers.

Deeds. Letters. Old journals. Books.

Biographies. History. Fiction.

Why did she keep all of this? Reminders of past adventures? Was she too  
lazy to toss it out?

There it was, the shop deed. An old store in Chorrol she'd purchased  
cheap as a curiosity, it'd turned out to be a great help in her  
adventures. Selling things to the shops for small amounts of septims  
only offered so much, being able to sell direct was much more  
profitable. But that was all past now. No adventures since Katriana  
came into her life, no new goods to sell anymore. The Figher's Guild  
could at least use it to fund themselves rather than relying on  
contracts.

As Kitrina folded the document, she was startled when Haskill pushed  
open the door to her private chamber. "My apologies, my Lord, but  
you are needed immediately. There is an urgent matter than needs  
your attention."

"Mehrunes Dagon?"

"Thankfully, no," Haskill assured her. "It would appear that the  
tension between the Golden saints and Dark Seducers is about to  
erupt into a conflict in the center of New Sheoth. I only dread to  
consider what shall happen if this gets out of hand."

Slamming her fist against the old wooden desk, Kitrina barely had time  
to grab her sword, running quickly to deal with the problem. she'd been  
hoping both sides would have at least kept themselves in control,  
not to risk upsetting her, their Madgod.

* * *

"Go back to your own side, Seducer. We do not need you in Mania!"

"Don't give me orders," the Mazken shot back. "I do not recognize  
your authority. I am assisting a citizen of the Isles and a close  
friend of Lord Sheogorath! Keep to your own business!"

Teeth gritting hard, the Aureal stared at the Dark Seducer with  
eyes squinted. "Your respect for mortals is disgusting. Go back to  
your own side!"

Another Golden Saint joined her sister. "Do as you are told!" she  
shouted, sword drawn.

Both sides seemed oblivious to the crowd gathering to witness the  
standoff. No doubt the residents of Mania were fearful of a bloodbath,  
though the idea of Mazken in their side of the city was one that  
held little favor.

Katriana, however, was quite concerned, and fearful of a small  
war breaking out. "Please, stop this! You don't need to fight! What  
would-"

"Silence, mortal!"

Kitrina pushed open the gate, her eyes seeing the golden slash connect  
with her lover's stomach, Kat's body sent to the cobblestone road  
from the force of the impact. Painful memories of another blade  
hitting the Elf, limp body falling to the stone beneath suddenly  
filled her mind.

"No..." Knocking several of the crowd over to reach her, Kit saw the  
wound. Red trickled down as Katriana cried in pain. Without thinking,  
the Champion's hands reached out, pale light emanating forth as mind  
set into motion healing magic. "Please don't die... not again..."  
Powerful restoration magic sealed the cut, a slice in Kat's green  
shirt the only sign of the wound. Stunned, the Champion dropped her  
sword as she suddenly became dizzy.

"Katriana? Answer me!"

"I'm fine, it's nothing..."

Snapping out of the trance, Kit looked into her lover's eyes. It was  
only a minor injury at best, nothing that simple healing hadn't been  
able to undo. However, some injuries left more than physical  
marks, and in certain cases affected more than just those who had  
received them. Rising up, sadness dissipating as anger grew,  
Kitrina's hands clenched into tight fists. Her lips were opened  
only part way, enough to reveal teeth gnashing tight, as the  
Hero Of Kvatch turned to the Golden Saints.

No words. No reprimand. No scolding. Kitrina instead proceeded to  
lunge forth, swinging fists like mad, pummeling the Aureal who had  
cut her soul mate. Screaming like a wild animal as blow after blow  
knocked the Daedra around like leaves in wind, Kitrina only felt rage,  
that same feeling she'd felt in so many battles before.

This was not the same. Mankar Camoran, Garn Vulna, Gareth, none of  
those men had earned such a response. Only one had prior- Inar.  
This was no fight, this was revenge. Honor did not apply.

"STOP IT! Please!"

These words stabbed her brain, slicing the rage. Not the words, the  
voice. "My love, please, stop!"

The Champion's anger and hate cleared enough to realize that Katriana  
was begging her to end this madness. "I-" The Madgod gazed down at  
the Golden Saint she'd assaulted. Most Daedra were quite strong,  
quite immune to emotion, so it was unusual, almost saddening to see one  
lying on the ground, bruised and whimpering. Brown patches loitered  
golden skin. Her armor was battered and dented, helmet laying some  
distance away, likely having flown off. The Aureal looked up slightly  
and in her eyes, Kitrina could see fear. Fear. It was an emotion that  
the Daedra knew, but rarely expressed. She had never seen it in their  
eyes personally, until now.

Sharp pains shot up the Champion's arms. Unfolding her fists, Kit  
saw the small cuts made by fingernails pressed into her palms. Knuckles  
dripped blood, both her own and her victim's. Her chest burned,  
breathing hard even now.

The Mazken and Aureal stood still, too stunned to move. Residents of  
Mania kept silent, merely watching. "I just know you sick freaks  
enjoyed this!" she shouted. "You, Bliss, you've wanted a war with the  
other side for some time! You don't want to get along! And you!"  
Turning towards her armies, the Champion screamed, "all you think  
about is which one of you I'm supposed to like more! You think this  
is a popularity contest! You don't care if anyone gets hurt because  
of your egotistical feud!" The crazy Bosmer, Fimmion, was grabbed  
by his shirt collar. "And you! Put some pants on! I'm tired of  
seeing you walk around without pants! You can NOT be that crazy!"

"KITRINA! Please... you're scaring me!"

Katriana's voice seemed to cut the anger even more. "I- I..."

Taking her companion's hand, Kit led her to the palace. "We need  
to get out of here."

* * *

Haskill knew far better than to say anything. Indeed, the ways of the  
Shivering Isles were different now. The previous Sheogorath would  
have no doubt enjoyed the commotion today, but what he would have  
preferred didn't matter now. Sheogorath was gone, once again  
Jyggalag, and in his place was this mortal, given Daedric power  
out of necessity with no thought to what would come after.

Mortals often bonded in pairings called love, and today the love of  
his new Madgod had been threatened. Haskill would sooner provoke  
a Flesh Atronach that dare incur this woman's anger. Haskill may  
have been an immortal being, but not even he wished to find out  
what could happen if his god chose to do to him what had happened to  
that Golden Saint.

Katriana was quite worried now. Understanding, but worried. Past  
trauma had been resurrected, she could only imagine what the Champion  
had seen that day a year ago, and to see it again now. All the Elf  
could do was sit quietly beside her love.

Kitrina. All she could do was sit still, still breathing in deep,  
heavy gasping that could be heard throughout the main hall. Her  
army stood their usual vigil but members of both factions were  
on edge. Whatever fear the beaten one had felt seemed to spread  
amongst both sides like an illness. They were terrified. It was true  
that their god was still a mortal, and that they could easily defeat  
her if they assembled in large numbers. However, to do so would  
lose them respect and gain suspicion amongst other Princes. To attack  
the one who had helped both sides before would be blasphemy. To attack  
when they knew their god's anger had been justified would be  
hypocrisy.

Although a few of the males seemed fearful that not even the combined  
strength of their entire armies could have mattered. Their commanders  
would scoff at the idea, yet when one considered that this woman had  
cut her way through hundreds of foes prior, grew more powerful by the  
day and was blessed with Daedric abilities, even the more willing would  
feel it necessary to reconsider. Many had seen the Champion as nothing  
more than an average mortal, and they had all fallen due to their  
arrogance.

The silence was broken as two Aureal dragged behind them a prisoner.  
"Lord Sheogorath, we discovered this intruder near the city."

"So deal with him, I-" Kit did not expect a Dremora to be brought  
before her. "Prepare for war. It appears that Mehrunes Dagon has sent  
a scout."

Through an expression of anger, the Dremora grumbled, "as I expected.  
The mortal mind is simple, like an animal. You do not even recognize  
the one who assisted you?"

"Yes..." The Champion recalled a single Dremore that had offered  
assistance rather than combat. "Kathutet. What did your master send  
you here to do? Doesn't matter, tell Dagon his scout failed. Kill him."

"NO!"

Such an outburst of fear was unexpected from any Daedra, especially the  
Dremora. "You must not allow my soul to fall into his hands. He has  
discovered what I have done. Offering you the bands of the chosen was  
seen as treason. I have been hunted for some time, finding a way to  
this realm was not easy. It is known you have taken the throne of  
Sheogorath. I have made the journey here to request protection and  
to offer my allegiance."

Cutting down this Dremora would have been simple, a quick solution  
to the issue. "And what guarantee do I have that Dagon won't send  
an army after you? I'm already concerned he'll invade at any time  
just to get revenge against me."

"I assure you," Kathutet responded, "that Lord Dagon lacks the  
strength. The injuries inflicted during the invasion of Mundus have  
left his body weak and it may take many decades to heal. In this realm  
he would have no power and none of my kyn will invade another  
realm of Oblivion for fear of the other Princes taking offense to  
such action. Even though you have likely not achieved apotheosis  
already, many still regard you as Sheogorath."

The other Princes. Molag Bal hated her, but was in no position  
to assist Mehrunes Dagon, nor would be care to. Clavicus Vile was  
dealing with Umbra and likely paid no attention to any other matter.  
Azura, Meridia and many of the others would likely serve as allies  
for she had gained their favor, although whether they could ignore  
their own feuds to work together was uncertain, and Kit wondered  
if allying with one would turn another into an enemy.

"I don't have time to deal with this right now. Lock him away somewhere  
until I return. If he doesn't behave, kill him. Come, Katriana, we  
have duties to attend to in Cyrodiil."

* * *

Many ancient Ayleid structures had been reduced to the state of ruins  
over the centuries. Their darkness only served to conceal the dirt,  
cracks, remains and neglect. AranMathi was not one of those. Sitting  
along the cost of the Nibenay Valley, a wizard had set out to  
restore the ancient structure and use it as his home. The unnamed  
once succeeded, only to disappear shortly before the Oblivion Crisis.  
It had left the structure clean, yet empty, with only a few servants  
left to guard a home with no master.

When a lone woman stumbled upon the restored ruin, the guard offered  
the young woman a home, provided she could fill the hall with  
treasures and pay those who had been hired to take care of the grounds.  
It had been a lucky find, for it offered much more than a simple bed.  
One such gift had been a spell to allow the master of the house to  
return regardless of where they may be. Kitrina found the spell to  
be quite useful, for a portal behind the main bedchamber linked to  
each of the cities of Cyrodiil. Many had often questioned how the  
Champion seemed to move around so quickly, although with potential  
risk of bandits, vampires or a group such as the Dark Brotherhood  
gaining such power, it was a secret she intended to keep.

A haze of light and smoke heralded the arrival of the Champion and  
her companion, their bodies solidifying as teleportation magic  
carried them from an island in the Niben Bay to the bed chamber.

"Typical," Katriana commented, gazing at the sight before her. A Golden  
Saint forcefully fondled a Dark Seducer, both naked and embraced  
in a passionate bout of ecstasy.

Hearing the remark, the Mazken looked up. "Uh... hi."

Such a sight would have been unexpected by most, though Kitrina has  
become to expect this behavior from the pair. Poking at a wine bottle  
placed on a small table by the bed, "Empty. Why am I not surprised?"

It had been two years ago. Gareth had carried out his plans to seize  
control of the Empire, a plot which dragged the Champion with him to  
the First Era. Gareth has returned on his own, leaving Kitrina  
trapped with only a slim chance of return. It was a risky plan, one  
that only just worked, although she'd awoken a year too late. Being  
frozen in stone all those centuries, sealed away.

Haskill had become desperate to find his Lord, with no trace whatsoever  
of her to be found. Her prior adventure into the future has been  
relatively brief, but having been absent for many months and with  
the boundaries between Mundus and Oblivion weakened by the madman's  
power, he had sent a small number of both armies to Mundus to search.  
They had failed, of course, their god being trapped in stone, but  
in that time spent in the mortal realm, those four had begun to abandon  
their usual ways as they were exposed to mortal life.

Perhaps Kitrina should have taken it as a sign when both groups had  
been found in taverns.

Two Mazken, two Aureal. One of each had been assigned to the Knights  
of the Nine as guards, explained away as many knew of her frequent  
trips into the Shivering Isles. They had been told that Sheogorath,  
knowing some of his soldiers were in Cyrodiil, agreed to allow them  
to stay. This was technically true, after all.

The other two remained in AranMathi. They never left. A pair of  
Daedra running around would have caused trouble, they didn't  
require food or sleep, and these two had taken quite an interest in  
physical pleasure, something which their sisters didn't understand.  
With each other, with the servants and guards in the structure, and  
even with their god. Shantara, the Golden Saint had lengthy golden hair  
to match her skin. Trina kept short hair, finding it easier to manage  
should she need to slip a helmet on.

Choosing to ignore their fun, Kitrina grumbled and walked off. "I need  
to change into appropriate armor. Wait here."

"OH! Uh..." Trina reached for an envelope, shoving it towards her  
master. "This showed up yesterday."

"What is it?" Kit asked.

"I dunno," the Mazken replied.

Grinning, the Saint remarked, "she only reads stuff she can masturbate  
to."

Tearing open the envelope, the Champion's already addled mind only  
filled with even more sensations of anger. "Areldur... he was  
assaulted three days ago."

"He's one of the Knights of the Nine, isn't he?" Kat inquired.

She nodded. "Altmer tried to kill him. Go to Chorrol and tell them  
I'll be late. I need to deal with this."

"I'll come with-"

"Go to Chorrol! Don't argue with me!"

Kat was hurt by the tone her lover had used. The Champion had never  
spoken that way before. Even before they fell in love, her behavior  
was calm, if unrefined. "Okay. I'll tell them to expect you. Do be  
careful."

Touching the glowing disc, Katriana thought of the house in Chorrol and  
was taken away. Kit grabbed the empty wine bottle, screaming as it was  
thrown. "Damned Altmer! They won't stop until they bring back their  
old ways! You two, I want you to be ready in case anyone tries to break  
in here. I know they'd come after me given the chance! Although I  
suppose asking either of you to wear clothes would be too much?"

Pacing off with no further words, Kitrina headed towards the treasure  
room. The Saint simply shrugged. "What's got into her?"

* * *

If the front door of the castle had been opened any harder, it migth've  
been ripped from the hinges, she was so angry. It certainly alarmed  
those in the main hall that someone had come in. A woman with yellow  
hair, wearing the bright and polished white armor of a paladin. That  
same armor had once belonged to Melus Petilius in his younger days,  
before the death of his wife. Earning this armor had offended Molag  
Bal, for the Prince wished for his servant to force the holy knight to  
commit violence.

"I see you took the news well." She was greeted by Sir Thedret, a  
Redguard who had helped her resurrect the order many years ago.

"I want all the details."

"Sir Areldur is alright, thanks to those two you left here," he  
explained, pointing to the Aureal and Mazken standing guard. "He went  
out for a walk and didn't return for a meeting. When we went to search  
for him, he was found being beaten by several Altmer."

Kitrina closed her eyes tight, squeezing the lids so hard it  
physically hurt. "If this wasn't because he's with us, then I'm  
Malacath."

"I know," Thedret replied with disdain. "We're keeping watch in case  
they return. I would ask you to stay but I know better."

"No. I need to get to the Imperial City immediately. Ocato might be in  
danger. If they're after Altmer who aren't loyal to the old ways then  
he's likely to be next."

* * *

White Gold Tower could be seen from almost anywhere within Cyrodiil and  
even as a distant shadow in much of Temriel. A spire that marked the  
center of the city, it had once been an Ayleid capital before Allesia's  
revolution. It had also once been home to the Emperor, but those  
days were now over and the Elder Council merely ruled in the absence of  
the Septim line.

"I need to see Chancellor Ocato!"

"He's in the Elder Council Chambers," the guard said. "The Elder  
Council will be meeting shortly but you should have time to speak  
with him if you're brief."

Most would have been turned away, but the Champion of Cyrodiil was  
regarded more so than most.

Pushing open the heavy doors, Kitrina walked towards the Chancellor.  
As she had expected, a single Golden Saint stood guard nearby. Yet  
another Daedra trapped in Mundus thanks to Gareth's actions, Kitrina  
had instructed this one to keep watch on Ocato.

"Hail, Champion!" the Elf greeted.

"I have some bad news. Are you aware that the Knights of the Nine have  
an Altmer in our ranks?"

Ocato's expression turned sour. "I take it that he was attacked by  
Altmer thugs?"

"How'd you know?"

"There have been numerous attacks against Altmer all across the  
Empire," the Chancellor answered her. "It seems those who worship the  
Nine, or those who express allegiance to the Empire are being targeted.  
As for myself, we have increased security in the Imperial City, and  
I do have a personal guard with me at all times, thanks to the...  
generosity of Sheogorath. Might I ask, will your business with him be  
concluded soon? You would serve us greatly with your presence."

How she wanted to open up and say 'I'm Sheogorath, actually, and in  
a few more years I won't be able to come here,' say it and be done  
with it. "I will ask him. Be safe, you are all the Empire has left.  
I would stay but I have other matters to attend to."

"Of course," Ocato replied.

* * *

"First order of business..." Kitrina placed a document on the desk.  
"You now own the shop next to Seed-Neeus' shop. You may sell whatever  
the guild wishes to sell there. I no longer have time to stock or  
maintain it."

Modryn Oreyn, the elder Dunmer who served as the Champion of the  
Fighters Guild, collected the paper. "Your gesture is appreciated,  
I'm certain this will help the guild maintain enough funds to pay  
its members."

"Now then..." She looked at the gathered group. "I no longer have time  
to run this guild, as you are all aware." Pushing a key towards  
Azzan, she said, "you are the new guildmaster."

"Really? Me?"

"Yes, you," she grumbled.

Pocketing the key away, Azzan replied, "I will do my best to honor the  
guild as its new master."

"If that's all then I have to go. Take care."

Turning to leave, she heard Burz gro-Khash whine, "Azzan? I don't  
believe it..."

"I don't care what you don't believe!" It was a sudden outburst that  
took the entire guild hall by surprise. "This guild needs a positive  
public face and Azzan is that face!"

"But I'm stronger than he is! He's a bureaucrat! I've put more hard  
work into this guild than-"

"And this is why you don't get to be guildmaster!" the Champion  
screamed back. "You're a complete jerk! You insult everyone beneath  
you, you think this guild owes you something!" Grabbing the Orc's  
collar, surprising the brute, Kit yelled out, "if I had any less  
self control than I do I would knock those ugly oversized teeth out  
of your head right now! You don't know the first thing about hard  
work! How many Oblivion gates did you close? Were you the one who  
destroyed the Blackwood Company? Were you there when Martin gave  
his life for the Empire? I'm done with the guild. You have a new  
master. Like it or leave."

Shoving Burz away, Kitrina marched off, holding back a strong,  
painful urge to hit someone. Modryn, taken by surprise at the woman  
exploding in a fit of anger, somehow understood. "She's  
overworked. Pushed herself too hard trying to save the Empire. Who  
knows what else?"

Azzan remarked, "she's tried to do everything but the Empire is still  
in trouble."

Dusting himself off, Burz ignored the debate. "I'm going back to  
Cheydinhal." Keeping his opinions quiet, Burz almost swore that,  
despite the woman's blue eyes, he could have seen pure red in them.

* * *

Tossing the gauntlets aside, Kitrina sat on the edge of her bed.  
Kat tried to put an arm around her, but it seemed to go unnoticed.  
"I'm going to lose you again..."

"What did you just say?"

"I said..." Kit sighed as if her will to live was fading. "I'm going  
to lose you again. I'll become a Prince within a few years and will  
be immortal. And you," gently staring into Katriana's eyes, "will  
waste away and die. I'll be alone. I'll be alone with no means to  
save the Empire, god of a land that's on the verge of war."

A chair in the corner nearly tipped over as the heavy cuirass smashed  
into it, thrown aside with such anger that Kat suddenly felt a chill.  
"I watched the Emperor die. I watched Martin die. I've watched many  
sacrifice themselves, many more die, but none of those hurt me.  
Uriel Septim knew he was going to die. Martin chose his fate. But  
you..." She looked at the Elf. "When I saw you die I couldn't handle  
it. I don't know what would have happened if I hadn't been able to  
bring you back. The heart of the dead? I don't know if I could have  
destroyed it. And the Empire, I could petition for the throne and  
save it but I can't because I had to become Sheogorath! Everything  
I did, all the slain monsters and all the evil I've purged, none of  
it mattered!

"You can't believe that!" Straightening the corner, resting the  
armor neatly in the chair, Kat replied, "If it hadn't been for you,  
Tamriel would be a wasteland now! Gareth would still be Emperor!  
Who knows what orter evil power would have taken control?"

Slumped over, breathing deep and hard, Kit whined, "so what? I stop  
one power-mad individual, and another one comes along. Eventually one  
will come along that I won't be able to stop. It doesn't matter.  
I only delay the inevitable."

"Why did you become Sheograth? If you knew what it might mean,  
would you answer me that?"

"I... it was the only way to save those people." Sliding off the  
mattress, Kitrina was n the floor, crying. "No. I did it because,  
I thought... if I had that power than I could stop Mehrunes Dagon! But  
it didn't matter because... because that power was useless! It  
didn't work in Cyrodiil! I cursed myself and the Empire to obtain  
that power! And now I'll suffer for it because I won't ever die. I'll  
have to watch you die once again and... and..."

Embracing her lover, the Elf lifted her body back into bed. "I'll  
give it away. I'll find someone else to become Sheogorath. Yes. I will  
give it away, come back here and become Empress with you by my side  
and the Empire will be safe. No. I can't do that. What if whoever  
I give the power to becomes dangerous? I could be putting Tamriel at  
risk if I give it to some madman, and everyone there is crazy!  
yes, they're all crazy!"

Madness. Kat knew that the stress had finally pushed too hard,  
that Kitrina had begun to feel the weight crashing down. Nothing  
said would help her now. Merely holding tight to her lover's body,  
Kat could only embrace the Champion of Cyrodiil as she fell asleep.  
It would no doubt be a restless sleep, for doubt, helplessness and  
anger had taken hold.

* * *

If it were possible to resign, Haskill would do so.

Both of the Daedric armies were frightened of what their god would  
do, and Haskill was in the middle of it. "I would advise you  
to wait for Lord Sheogorath's return. What she shall do is beyond  
my means to surmise. You may be banished from the realm, or you  
may be reprimanded."

Aurmazl Zudeh was quite concerned for it'd been one of her own kind  
that caused this incident. "I do not see how Lord Sheogorath could  
expel all of us from the realm. It would leave the area outside of  
new Sheoth unguarded. The mortal that was attached was not killed  
or even severely injured."

"You do not seem to understand, do you?" The Chamberlain wasn't  
at all surprised. "You attacked someone very close to her heart.  
I am aware that moral concerns are not something that Daedra  
understand, but please keep in mind, our new Lord is mortal."

"No, I do not understand..." Huddled in the corner of the main hall,  
hidden within shadow, a single Golden Saint was curled into a ball.  
Fear had overtaken this one, for she was the very one that Kitrina  
had beaten. "My sister is suffering. Perhaps our disregard for mortal  
customs will be our undoing in this realm?"

"It is possible." He could see, even in shadow, that one of the usually  
stoic Aureal was gripped with terror. "For now I would suggest that  
you attend to your expected duties, as would the Dark Seducers. It may  
very well be in your favor to do so."

* * *

"I can't say I'm surprised," Shantara groaned. "It was going to  
happen eventually." The Aureal was used to her kind's arrogance,  
a trait she'd long abandoned thanks to mortal indulgence. This might  
make her a traitor in the eyes of the others, but it was of no  
concern.

Swigging from a fresh bottle of wine, Trina remarked, "they can't  
get over their popularity contest and work together. Those idiots can't  
even realize that Sheogorath favored the people, not the army."

"Didn't he see them as a form of amusement?" Kat was familiar with  
the tales of Sheogorath. The Madgod earned that title many times over  
as mortals were turned to madness.

"Eh... that too. But he lets them live in his realm, they're protected  
and they're fed." The Mazken had been a member of the army for some  
time, long enough to have seen many mortals enter the Madgod's realm.  
"But things are different now... different." Trina suddenly realized  
why it was that the Daedra often avoided attachment to mortals. "You  
live such short lives. My kind have always been more sympathetic to  
men and mer but never would get too close. Hey! Didn't your father use  
some sort of magic to live?"

"He did," Kat said, saddened by memories. "My father... Kitrina told  
me he had been alive since the First Era. It doesn't really matter,  
I have no idea what magic he used or if anyone knows it."

Shanrata dropped an emptied bottle and spoke, "isn't there that one old  
guy who used to work for Jyggalag? Sheogorath made him an immortal."

"Oh yeah, that one old man who won't leave his cave," the Mazken  
recalled. "He's waiting on her to undo that so he can die, I think."

Slumping down in the sofa, Katriana was ready to fall asleep. "I wonder  
how she's supposed to make that happen?"

"No idea," the Aureal mumbled. "I think a Daedric Prince just wills  
stuff to happen and it happens. At least, in their own realm.  
Sheogorath created the males of our kind. Maybe she can make you  
immortal? Oh... but she's not a Daedric Prince yet. When's that gonna  
happen, anyway?"

Trina rolled over in her chair. "I hope it happens soon. Our sisters  
are ready to tear each other apart. Too bad they won't just have sex  
with each other instead."

"There's an idea! But..." Shantara sighed. "How are we supposed to  
make them all lighten up? Maybe we could... get enough alcohol for  
everyone, make them drink it and..."

"And how much alcohol would you even need for that?" Kat inquired.

"Oh... good question..." Trying to add up the numbers, the Aureal  
answered, "I think there are around two thousand per side. Not counting  
the males."

Kat demanded, "and how many of them are there?"

"I think..." Biting her lip, Shantara blurted out, "about twenty."

"Twenty!?"

Shrugging, she remarked, "it's not like we NEED males. We don't  
reproduce. Anyway, getting them to have sex with men would be almost  
impossible. Sheogorath only created them to annoy us."

"Sure," the Elf scoffed. "The only reason you're not having sex with  
men is because there are none living here!"

"She's got a point," Trina agreed. "I guess we could go to Bravil,  
but we might have half the city guard trying to kill us. But have  
you seen the males of our kind? They were designed to be pathetic."  
It was a statement that was probably quite true. After all, the Madgod  
had to toy with everyone, even his servants. Even Haskill was not  
immune. "So how come you haven't had sex with a man?"

"I-" Looking away, Kat grumbled, "that is... it's really none of your  
business."

"Well, I know why our new Sheogorath doesn't," Trina smirked. "She's  
not attracted to them. That's about it."

The Elf shrugged. "She's never talked about it."

"Think about it! I mean, she probably took the Emperor's death hard,  
and Martin's. She's worked with men a lot but none of them interested  
her. Instead she-" The Mazken quieted herself.

"You mean she had sex with both of you, everyone else in here, and me?"

Trina smiled. "If you wanna put it that way."

"But she hasn't actually done anything with anyone else since you came  
along." Popping the cork off another bottle, Shantara groaned, "but  
we all know why that is."

Katriana disregarded the conversation. she had a hard decision to  
make, one that would perhaps be harder to make than a simple choice,  
but her eyelids would not stay open.

* * *

Light stung the Champion's eyes as they opened. Her body was stung by  
cold air, causing the warrior woman to awaken quickly. Looking down  
the bed to see her naked body, Kitrina was almost certain she was  
wearing her armor. Though she barely recalled going to bed, only that  
her mind had been filled with jumbled thoughts.

"You were asleep long enough."

The voice belonged to Katriana.

"How long was I out?" Kit demanded, yawning as her body began to  
adjust.

"Twelve hours. I took off the rest of your armor so you could sleep  
easier, and piled them up neatly with the parts you threw across  
the room." Sitting in the corner was a neat stack of armor. "You  
scared me a little, you know. I was afraid you were having a nervous  
breakdown."

The Champion began to recall everything. "I feel so helpless. The  
Empire is crumbling, the Shivering Isles are ready to turn into a  
war zone, and now the Altmer are becoming violent."

"You can not be expected to do everything," Kat said, sitting beside  
her. "You've done a great deal already but one person can not do  
everything. Please, answer me, why did you become an adventurer?"

"I..." Kit remembered that day in the jail cell, that day Uriel Septim  
and his guards opened a passageway. "I just did." Such a simple answer,  
such a simple reason. "I've spent my whole life doing whatever task  
I was given with no thought. I followed them out of the cell, I  
delivered the amulet as I was asked. I found Martin. I did what had  
to be done."

Katriana found the truth to be a cold one. Her lover had led a life  
of doing, not a life filled with joy. "Why did you agree to find the  
heart of the dead? I know you didn't need treasure. You were running  
that shop, you were already rich."

"I was asked to. I had nothing better to do. I thought your father was  
nothing but a harmless old man." Looking into the Elf's eyes, she said,  
"I never felt emotional about anything until I met you. I watched  
them cut the Emperor down, but it didn't hurt. I watched Martin die,  
but it didn't hurt, either. I've killed many, watched many more die.  
But I didn't know what love was until I met you."

Such a sad reason, to think that a person's life was simply an  
existence that was spent reacting to whatever was put before them.

"No. It didn't hurt then but it does now. The Emperor told me he  
knew when he was going to die and I accepted that. Martin knew what  
he was doing and I accepted that. But now it feels like such a waste of  
life."

"You feel love now," Kat said, holding her close, "but you feel pain  
as well. I think, to feel something, you also have to feel the  
opposite, otherwise you can't tell the difference. You've place the  
weight of the world upon you. You've tried to be the hero everyone  
needs, but you can't." reaching down under the bed, Kat pulled out  
a long, jagged wooden staff. "You see? I'm holding Sheogorath's staff.  
Am I Sheogorath now?"

Kitrina felt no different, certainly not as if a great power had been  
drained. "But I thought-"

"If this power was nothing but a piece of wood, anyone could take it.  
I don't know why Sheogorath passed this onto you, but it may have been  
one of the few sane decisions he ever made. He thought of his people,  
his favored ones. He sacrificed himself for others."

"That doesn't make any sense!" The Champion found the idea to be  
absurd. "Daedric Princes... why would he do that?" Reconsideration  
of the idea changed her mind, for now it made perfect sense. "To save  
his people. He could've let the Greymarch happen, as it had before.  
He would still be around. I wouldn't have thought a Daedric Prince  
even capable."

"My love," Kat mumbled, "I've made a decision. If a way can be found  
to extend my life, I will allow it. I believe you may be able to will  
it so when you've become a Daedra. Although when that will be is  
uncertain."

Nuzzling her lover's red hair, Kitrina replied, "the Empire may be  
dead. Maybe it will survive if Ocato can only maintain order. But I  
should stop worrying about what I cannot control and focus on what is  
within my power. I can't do anything here but I have a realm that  
needs my attention. Do you think we can do what is needed?"

A voice rang out, "I think you can, my Lord." Shantara and Trina  
stood in the entryway of the bed chamber, fully dressed in their  
armor.

"I see you finally put on clothes," Kit smirked.

"Our sisters must learn new ways or they will destroy each other,"  
the Aureal stated. "if teaching them to enjoy mortal pleasures will  
save them, then we will show them what we have learned in our time  
in Mundus. Perhaps it will be enough to open their eyes."

The will of these two Daedra to abandon a life of leisure and  
pleasure for their master was unexpected, certainly, but welcome.  
"You do know that once you've returned to the Isles, you can never  
come back here?"

"My Lord," Trina replied, "we are trapped in this place. We can not go  
outside, into the cities, for fear of what mortals would do. Laying  
around all day drinking and engaging in physical pleasure is something  
we can do in our realm, with more freedom of choice. This is barely  
above a prison. Our sisters also live in a prison, one of the spirit.  
They must be shown freedom from their ways."

Rising off the mattress, Kit stated proudly, "alright then, after I  
eat a quick meal, we shall gather some supplies to take back with us  
and-"

"You're still here! Thank the Nine!"

The unexpected intrusion was Heddvild, one of the guards who watched  
the main hall. A tall Nord woman who wore a suit of Golden saint  
armor and wielded a gigantic hammer, she saw that no one stole any of  
the many treasures on display. "I- oh, I'm sorry, I wasn't aware..."

If anything, Kitrina was barely shy of her nudity, at least when women  
were staring. Modesty was not one trait the woman had been taught in  
her broken childhood. "Like you haven't seen me naked before. What  
is it?"

"One of the Knights of the Nine just arrived and asked for you. It  
seems urgent."

"Not good..." An uneasy feeling took hold, fear that one of the order's  
own was in trouble. "Tell him I'll be out shortly," Kit muttered,  
collecting the holy armor and clasping the heavy armament to her  
muscled body.

"I will change as well," Katriana stated.

"No, I-" Kit paused. "Yes." How tempting it was to keep her lover safe  
from harm. How tempting to put her up in safety and handle all the  
danger herself. But to entrap someone, to keep them on a leash, was  
a certain way to lose one you cared for. "Wear your good armor. I have  
an uneasy feeling about this."

* * *

Sir Lathon had only begun to browse the display cases when the Holy  
Crusader herself ran towards him, almost bumping into one of the  
cases. "I take it that Areldur is in trouble?"

"Yes." The Redguard felt ready to break down. "He is missing. We  
believe that his captors snuck in somehow, either with a spell to  
teleport in and out, or strong chameleon magic, but Sir Areldur is  
missing, taken from the castle despite our best efforts to protect  
him. We have been searching the area thoroughly, but Sir Thedret sent  
me to find you. I am thankful you were here."

Katriana ran towards them clad in shiny black half-armor that seemed  
more designed to show off than for protection, followed by the two  
Daedra. "Ah, you have your own guards here as well. Those you left with  
us have been helpful. Sir Thedret owes his life to them after the first  
assault by these monsters."

"Go and join them in their search. I will follow shortly," Kitrina  
ordered. As the knight fled to join the search, Kit screamed out,  
"Heddvild!"

"Yes, my lady?"

"If any Altmer break in here, assume they may be more than thieves.  
But try to take them alive, should I need to question them."

Grabbing her war hammer firmly, the Nord responded, "will do."

* * *

Time was not a commodity to be wasted, not now. A quick transport to  
Skingrad, a short walk to the castle grounds. How she would explain  
their timely arrival was another matter to be considered later.

"You two," Kit ordered her Daedric servants, "you search the north  
area. We will go east."

"Are you certain he's even here? What if they did teleport away?"  
The Elf was worried, not only was a man's life was in danger, if he were  
not already dead, but that her own people were responsible; people  
that would likely label her a traitor and do the same to her.

"No. They would have watched the castle closely. Teleportation without  
proper magical knowledge is quite hard." Concentrating, a spell of  
Night Eye cut through the darkness. Clipping a ring to her necklace,  
the Champion saw a glowing haze around her lover, a sign of life.

Pushing through brush and leaves, no doubt making more noise than  
they should, the pair scoured the area until a burning campfire  
almost blinded Kitrina. "Damn!" Shaking off the effects of Night Eye,  
she cursed, "stupid magic, whoever created it must not have known what  
light was!"

"Oh, dear..."

Kat saw the bodies. Men in robes, six at least, lifeless around the  
camp. Stooping to inspect one, she was hardly surprised to see pointed  
ears. "Altmer. But why are they dead?"

That glowing hazy mist tipped the warrior off to an intruder. Screaming  
as he ran forth, more than eager to cut down the new arrivals, the man  
barely had a chance as the Champion of Cyrodiil swung her blade wide,  
slashing her attacker clean, as she'd done hundreds of times before.  
Killing an enemy had become almost an afterthought. Weapons charged  
with enchantments made the task easier, forcing the victim to endure  
electricity, fire and frost, amongst other effects, and a powerful  
enchantment could end a foe's life with only a single stroke. "DAMN!  
Why did I do that?"

Kat remarked, "perhaps it was because he was going to plunge a knife  
into you?"

"I needed him alive... to ask what happened. Thedret did not do this,  
he would have returned to the castle." Cursing her impulsive nature,  
Kit turned from the fire and cast the spell again. "Perhaps I can  
find some sort of trail. Whoever came here, or left, should have..."  
Kitrina hated Night Eye. Lights hurt quite bad and everything was  
cast in a haze of blue which made it hard to see details or  
distinguish between objects, but a blood trail always left a distinct  
black mark in the user's vision.

Kat failed to grasp this turn of events, though one could hardly blame  
an individual for failing to make sense of that which was strange.  
Following behind her love, the two were led to an old rotting wooden  
door over a cave entrance. Nothing special, as such caves littered the  
land, mostly abandoned mines. Swinging the door open, Kit eased in  
slowly, sneaking through the darkness.

Light again burned the warrior woman's eyes. Allowing her spell to  
wear off, Kitrina could see what looked to be a living space in  
a larger chamber, albeit a very basic living space. A man, elderly  
and with the ears of an Elf race sat by the fire. Lying nearby was  
a form clad in the armor of the Knights of the Nine. Watching from the  
shadows, the pair witnessed the older man turn and hand a bottle to  
the knight.

"Stop!" Not concerned with being seen, Kit ran out, cautious but  
untrusting of the stranger.

"Oh, my!"

Areldur held up a hand, shouting, "don't hurt him!"

Sword gripped tight, the Champion demanded in a harsh tone, "who  
are you and why do you have this man here with you?"

"I am Urelar," the old man responded. "Not long ago I was out for a  
walk and saw a battle taking place. I offered my assistance, but your  
friend here was injured. I brought him back here to heal him."

"I'm fine," Areldur said, drinking the potion, feeling some of his  
wounds closing. "I might've been killed if he hadn't arrived."

Placing a hand upon the knight, Kitrina sent a wave of healing magic  
into his body. "The entire order has been searching for you," the  
Champion explained, "we were only hoping you were still alive."

Back aching from old age, Urelar asked, "who were those attackers?"

"Altmer have been assaulting any of their kind that they feel are  
traitors," Kit explained, "it seems as if this has been going on  
throughout the empire. Somehow I'm not surprised. I expect you might  
be one they'll come after as well."

"Let them try," the old Elf responded without fear. "I am perhaps  
older than they think, it does not matter, I have no fear of death  
any longer. It would seem as if the desire to return to the old  
ways burns strong once more."

Areldur let out a sigh. "I was once a priest serving the Chapel of  
Stendarr in Chorrol, before joining this holy order. No doubt those  
responsible consider that to be a tremendous insult. Unfortunately,  
it is a fact that our people wish to rule again and those of us not  
willing are seen as a threat."

"Gareth," Katriana mumbled. "Umbacano as well."

Gareth was a name familiar to everyone. "I have heard the rumors of  
what's been going on in the Sumerset Isles." urelar seemed saddened by  
all this. "Strange," he muttered, looking at Kat. "You are only part  
Elf. But... you should return your friend and let everyone know  
he is safe. But would you return afterwards? I wish to discuss  
something important."

Leaning close, Kat whispered, "I think he knows I'm Ayleid."

Nodding in agreement, Kitrina responded, "We shall return shortly."

* * *

"I did not wish to say it in front of our guest, but I believe you are  
of Ayleid lineage."

"That's correct," Kat answered. "But how did you know?"

Urelar stated unexpectedly, "I have lived long enough to be able to  
tell my own kind apart from the Altmer. Subtle differences do exist.  
I know there are some still alive to this day, both surviving villages  
and those who-"

The Champion knew what his silence meant. "Those who used magic to  
survive." She had to keep calm, hold back the urge to kill. "Modern  
Ayleid worked with Gareth, I know that. But you know of ancient magic  
to extend life, and are quite old. I met another like you."

Urelar turned to the half-Elf and asked, "may I ask, do you know who  
your father was?"

"My father was..."

"Inar. And he's dead." Kit held off on telling the old man why.

That name sent shivers down the old man's back. "I'm glad to hear it.  
He was a bastard. His brother created the heart of the dead, an-"

"I know. Yurn died many years ago but Inar tried to use me to get  
ahold of it so he could revive Ayleid rule."

Eyes closed, letting out a sigh, he mumbled, "and I suppose you are  
his daughter. His sacrifice. But he failed."

"Barely," Kitrina said, almost crying. "She was sacrificed. I was  
able to kill him before he could cross the veil."

"You mean... what happened to the heart?"

She answered, "I destroyed it. Yurn helped me, it seems he wasn't  
like his brother."

"And you were able to retrieve your friend's soul as well. Wonderful  
news. That dreaded artifact will never threaten Tamriel again!"  
Uncorking a bottle of cheap beer, Urelar said, "many of us extended  
our lives. Many of us died over the years, or were lost. I do not know  
what happened to most of them but I was a young soldier in those days.  
Over the many thousands of years I grew to hate what we had done to  
the land and the people. I only hope I can die before witnessing  
the old ways return."

"That magic," the warrior begged, "do you know what it was?"

"Why would you ask such a question?"

"I-" Kit couldn't simply tell this man the full truth. "I have been  
given eternal life in my journeys but Katriana will grow old and die,  
and I can not bear that loss. Not again."

"Oh. I see. Well, your relationship is none of my business," he  
replied, realizing the two were more than friends, "but let me think...  
yes, I believe I have a scroll somewhere with the details. It was  
powerful Daedric magic. You will need a few items, some may be hard  
to obtain."

Somehow worried that this may not even work, Kat demanded, "my mother  
was human. Will that matter?"

"Hardly," Urelar shot back. "Although you may not love as long as a  
pure blood might. However, I take it to mean you wish to find a more  
permanent solution. This should at least allow more time, and preserve  
your youth in the meantime. Now, let me see..."

Moving towards an assortment of storage chests, the old Elf rummaged  
through clothes, supplies and books. "Here is- no, that's not it.  
Why did I keep this junk? No, that's not it either... here! Oh. I  
forgot." Unrolling the scroll to reveal ancient writing, "it is  
in Ayleid. I can translate it if you wait."

"No need," Kit said. "I can read it. Inar gave me magic to read  
Ayleid while I was serving as his pawn."

"Very well. You will need a few common herbal ingredients, a welkynd  
stone and a varla stone, either if which should be too hard to  
obtain. Though the Daedra hearts may be difficult these days."  
Handing the scroll over, he went on, "it brings my old heart joy to  
know that one of my kind will live on with a pure heart, not hatred.  
I can see it in you, your soul is as beautiful as you are. Our people  
were once good, until-"

"Until Luminai left?" Kitrina let slip. It had been a fact discovered  
in her time with the Archaeology Guild.

Urelar was impressed. "You know. Incredible." Returning to the fire,  
the old Elf whined, "I will be dead within days. I am too old. I am  
pleased that I was able to do something good before that time."

Kat's heart sank. "You're dying? Can't we do anything to-"

"No," he cried out. "I said I was prepared. I have lived far too long.  
I need my rest."

Without answering, Kit turned to her lover and said, "we need to return  
to the castle and make sure everything is okay. Then we have other  
matters to tend to." Looking at the Elf, the Champion told him, "I am  
grateful for what you have done for us."

* * *

"If she doesn't come back soon, this entire island is going to become  
a war zone!"

Haskill brushed off the concern, for Kilthan was paranoid. Not merely  
paranoid, but perpetually, chronically paranoid. "Yes, I'm sure our  
Lord will return shortly, but you are more than aware of the trouble  
that mortal woman is capable of getting herself into... although  
I suppose you have not lived long enough to recall the unusual behavior  
and many vacations Lord Sheogorath himself would often partake, such as  
the time he spent an entire month believing he could teach lettuce to  
speak and conduct plays based on the history of Mundus."

"I-" The Redguard's jaw hung open. "I don't even know how to respond  
to that. But both armies are ready to tear each other apart and in case  
you haven't noticed, that woman isn't a Daedra yet. What if they  
decide that she can't stop them? Then what? Everyone dies. I think  
some of us should consider leaving here and going through that gate  
while we still have our heads attached to our bodies!"

If Haskill had behaved in the manner of mortals, the Chamberlain would  
have rolled his eyes. "Of course, you or anyone else in the Isles are  
free to do so if you wish but- ah, Lord Sheogorath has finally arrived.  
Perhaps you should reconsider your plans to flee, for the time being."  
Turning to his master, he asked, "I trust you took care of your  
errands, my Lord?"

"We had problems," Kit replied, "it's getting worse."

"As one would expect when considering the current state of mortal  
affairs." He knew better than to ask the details or even question  
his god's decisions. "I trust you are prepared to take care of affairs  
in this realm now?"

"Yes. I want the commanders of each army in my private chambers in  
one hour. I intend to settle the problem with both sides, with the  
help of those two."

"It would appear as if two of the four I sent to Mundus have finally  
returned home."

"They've learned things that I want to spread amongst the rest."

It was an unusual sight. Haskill, for once in his existence, seemed  
to widen his eyes in shock, even if only partially. "Oh, my... this  
is unexpected, I would not have thought either the Saints or Seducers  
to indulge in mortal ways. One can only imagine the trouble those  
two have gotten into living amongst mortals."

Shantara grinned, shouting proudly, "our sisters need to learn how to  
have fun and stop being so stuck-up."

"This little popularity contest they're trying to win," Trina muttered,  
"is going to have to end. They need to learn to love each other."

With a sigh, Haskill responded, "I should not be surprised, yet I am.  
I wonder, did your predecessor consider how things may be run when  
he left you in charge? Although I suppose the idea of changing the  
Daedra is so insane, he would have approved. I only wish for your  
success, my Lord, fr the stability of the shivering Isles may depend  
upon it."

"Right now I need to talk with that Dremora. I need to find out what he  
wants."

"Of course. Herdir has been keeping careful watch on him" the  
Chamberlain explained. "Will you execute him, my Lord?"

Shrugging, she shot back, "as much as I want to, I need to know  
why he came here. He did help me kill Mankar Camoran."

Somehow, Haskill felt confident in his master's plans. "I wish you  
luck in dealing with that one. I shall send word to the commanders to  
meet with you as you have instructed."

* * *

With a sharp crack of the knuckles, an old man stared at his captive  
like a cat about to toy with a mouse that was to be dinner. "It's  
going to be fun torturing you," Herdir blurted out with glee. "Yes,  
you're going to be someone new to break."

"We shall see, mortal." Kathutet had served Lord Dagon since the  
beginning, but had grown sick of his god's simple-minded goals. Many  
of the Princes could have accepted him willingly in their service,  
yet he had fled to this one, one with no trust of him. The Dremora had  
begun to regret this choice.

Her white and gold armor was out of place in this dreary, moldy  
dungeon, almost eye-searing how it contrasted. The Daedra remembered  
it well, for it was the very holy armor this warrior woman had  
worn when he first encountered her. "You shall decide my fate, I have  
placed that fate into your hands, although the decision may be one I  
shall regret."

"Regret." Tapping her sword to the floor, Kitrina spat back in anger,  
"you don't even regret what you did to Kvatch! I think you only  
assisted me because you thought Mankar Camoran was inferior. One  
of the Mythic Dawn, the one who helped me kill Camoran, he seemed to  
regret what he had done..."

Indeed, Eldamil had felt remorse for destroying the city and for  
siding with Mehrunes Dagon. "But you don't, nor do I think you ever  
could. You're of no use to me, you would disrupt life here, and I  
don't care for you. Tell your master if he ever comes here I shall  
be waiting."

Weapon drawn back, screaming a warrior's cry, Kitrina thrust forward,  
stopping the blade short as the Dremora cried out, "please, no!"

Fear.

A Daedra expressed fear.

"Very well. You're so terrified of Mehrunes Dagon that you beg for your  
life." Letting go, sword clattering against the stone floor, she  
bellowed out, "you will work a farm. You will grow food for the people.  
You will serve mortals. You will not interfere with anyone, you will  
not interfere with my army. You will assist those in need. You're going  
to have to learn to regret what you did. You will not be permitted  
to leave or own weapons. If you attack anyone, poison the food you  
grow, or sabotage crops, you will be executed without question and  
returned to Dagon."

"As you wish... Lord Sheogorath." Kathutet had no choice. His sanctuary  
was little more than a prison, but preferable to torment and  
enslavement at the hands of his former master.

"You will be stripped of your armor and given clothes. I will see to it  
that a house is provided where you will tend your garden. And to show  
you I mean it... Herdir!"

Grinning, the old jailer mumbled, "as you wish, Lord Sheogorath!"  
before releasing a mild burst of electricity into the Daedra's  
body, just enough to cause intense pain but not enough to do any  
permanent damage. Torture was a skill that required practice and  
refinement to get just right; after all, a prisoner could not give  
information if they were dead.

Satisfied that her new arrival knew that she was not to be betrayed,  
Kitrina said, "make sure that everything I just said is taken care of."

"Of course," Herdir responded, dissatisfied that an execution was  
not to take place today, but hopefully this Dremora would screw up,  
allowing the jailer a chance.

* * *

Kitrina's private chambers were nothing exceptional, merely a new  
addition to the palace for privacy. Her predecessor left no such  
quarters behind, although Sheogorath had no need for a bed or even  
privacy. One day, neither would she, but that time had yet to come.  
Placing the Paladin's gloves neatly onto the armor stand, Kit paused  
as two of her soldiers entered the room. "On time. Perfect." She did  
not expect either to be late, disobeying an order even slightly  
was not within the capacity of these loyal Daedra. "I trust you know  
why you were requested?"

Staada, Aureal Commander, responded, "the incident in Mania. Yes,  
I am aware of what happened."

Mazken Commander Dylora remarked, "one of the Golden Saints wounded  
your friend after starting an argument."

"An argument that began merely as one of the Dark seducers had to set  
foot in the walls of Bliss and-"

"STOP IT!"

Both Daedra did as told, shocked by the outburst. "This is the exact  
reason you are here. Both sides have problems that I cannot and will  
not tolerate. I do not know what joy my predecessor took in watching  
your petty feud but I shall not allow this! You will either have to  
abandon your rivalry and become friends, or I shall have no choice  
but to expel both armies. Before either of you say anything, Sheogorath  
put me in power. I have every right to do that."

"We-" Looking at her counterpart, the Aureal commander commented, "I  
do not know... I am aware your friend means something to you,  
even if she is a mortal."

"And that's part of your problem," Kit blurted out, holding back  
thoughts of, 'and if she had died I would have hunted down and  
slaughtered every one of you.' "You believe you're better than mortals  
and yet neither of you have even a basic understanding of them. That  
must change. You must be enlightened." Removing her boots, Kit  
unclasped the cuirass and placed it onto the stand, followed by  
the heavy greaves. Naked body exposed to both, the Champion ordered,  
"remove your armor".

"My Lord, I do not understand," Staada voiced, "do you wish to fight  
us?"

"Of course not," Kit responded, "just... remove your armor."

Pulling off gauntlets, purple skin exposed, the Mazken commander  
muttered, "do you wish to engage in mortal pleasure with us? Is  
that why?"

"No. Don't worry, you will learn..." Pausing to admire both of them  
as their garments clanked one by one to the ground, the warrior  
woman composed herself and continued, "there are two cups nearby.  
I want each of you to take one and drink." sitting in a plush chair,  
Kit thought to herself, 'one you both have been shown pleasure then  
I'll teach you something myself.'

Each collected a silver cup, smelling the contents. "This is some sort  
of drink that mortals consume," Stadda whined.

"Yes, I am aware that you normally do not need to eat or drink," the  
Champion responded, "but please, drink." She had thought the Mazken  
would be first, only for the Aureal to lead in sipping fine aged wine.  
"You're not used to tasting food, so drink slowly and do not be afraid  
to enjoy it." Kitrina watched both of her loyal companions sneak from  
behind their hiding spots, each one embracing their commander from  
behind. Staada gasped, almost dropping the wine cup, while Dylora  
seemed to remain better composed.

"Taste good?" Trina blurted out.

"You'll start to feel a bit strange in just a second," Shantara said,  
"I found out the hard way that Daedra have a lot tolerance of alcohol."

The Aureal commander shouted out, "what are you doing?"

"Oh, don't be like that," Shantara whined. "We're here to teach you  
something fun."

Spinning around, Staada saw that both of these newcomers were as naked  
as they were. "I recognize you, Haskill sent you to Mundus to search  
for Lord Sheogorath when..."

Smiling now, "you're feeling just a bit dizzy, probably. But a bit  
relaxed?" Shantara eased closer to her superior, hands slinking down,  
fingers curving around her ass. "Our bodies are similar to mortal  
females, it's just that we never knew how similar."

Trina's own hands slid up, tweaking Dylora's nipples. "Mortal women  
use these to feed their infants, but they're not just decoration on  
us."

"You are insubordinate, and- oh, wow..." the Mazken commander could  
not believe what she was feeling. Massaging each breast, squeezing  
them, Trina's legs began to tingle.

Easing over to the four, Kitrina was quite excited by the scene.  
She couldn't recall her first realization of her attraction to other  
women, and never questioned why her preference leaned towards the  
female body over males- it certainly had nothing to do with any  
hatred of men- but knowing that two of her army were soon going to  
experience sexual pleasure, a new feeling, was exciting.

"You might think this is disgusting, immoral and beneath you..."  
Leaning in close to Dylora, the Champion whispered, "but I do this  
all the time. You won't tell me I'm doing something wrong? Relax and  
enjoy, let them show you love. your hate will destroy both of you,  
and the people. Love is more fun."

Pacing away, Kit heard the doorway to her bath chamber open. A  
red-haired Elf walked in, naked as she was, pushing her lover to the  
bed. "I haven't been with you in weeks. Let them explore, it's our  
turn to have some fun!"

Shantara's fingers crept downward, teasing her commander's slit.  
"Just think, we've had this here for millennia, and never knew we  
could touch it." Sparks shot up Staada's back, causing the Aureal to  
moan as her clitoris was grazed. "You really believe mortals are so  
disgusting when they seek to experience this sensation?"

With a smile, Shantara and Trina took hands, twirling around as the  
Daedra switched partners. Leaning in, the Saint looked the Mazken  
commander in the eyes. "Are you willing to trust one you hate so much?"

Trina began kissing her Aureal partner, lips down to neck, downward,  
pausing to suck her puffy nipples. "So hard," she groaned, "I think  
you're enjoying this."

Dropping to her knees, the golden-skinned Shantara looked up towards  
Dylora, asking, "do you want me to use my mouth?"

"Do I what?" Looking at her god, wishing to seek advice, or ask  
permission, all the Mazken leader noticed was Kitrina far too busy to  
pay her any attention.

"No, don't ask her." Placing the tips of two fingers right between  
the Seducer's legs, ready to thrust inside, she explained, "you have to  
decide. Do you want me to make you orgasm? It's not anyone else's  
decision. Foolish woman, so thoughtless and loyal to your god you  
can't even decide if you want pleasure on your own?"

Staada shouted out, "my legs, they... feel wet." Sliding down, Trina  
wiped a trail of juice off the Saint's thigh. "I'm tingling..."

"If you think that feels good," the mortal-desiring Mazken moaned,  
"wait until you climax!"

"Please show me..."

Trina's tongue began flicking between her partner's labia, parting  
the lips until they began to swell. Taking one of the swollen flaps  
between both her lips, Trina sucked on the golden skin, moving upward,  
suckling on the swollen bulb. Groaning quote loud, overtaken by new  
feelings, Staada's whole body shook as if the entire palace were  
falling down.

Dylora's crotch was almost burning, watching her counterpart  
engaged in deep pleasure. "Please show me..."

"Good girl." Grinning wide, Shantara thrust both fingers in deep  
with harsh force, licking her lips upon hearing the Mazken scream out.  
In and out, faster and faster, the Aureal kept her thumb out to graze  
Dylora's clit, free hand squeezing the woman's ass tight. "You  
like this! Admit it! You want me to get you off! You'd rather do this  
than be just another soldier that can't even think for herself!"

Her cry filled the room. Dylora felt her first orgasm, a feeling  
new, a feeling that in thousands of years she'd never felt, never  
thought she could feel, overwhelming every sense.

Witnessing her equal writing in ecstasy, the Aureal commander's knees  
buckled, falling backwards as climax hit, pleasure that hit like  
lightning and was stunning in how wonderful it felt, so strong that  
falling flat to the hard stone floor didn't even seem to hurt. Panting  
hard, the shock wave of orgasm wearing off, Staada looked up to see her  
god looking upon her.

"Did you enjoy it?"

"Yes, Lord Sheogorath... I never noticed your beauty before, your  
grace"

"That might be the wine," Kit suggested. "Although it is possible  
you are realizing that you can see the world around you in more than  
one way."

Bending down to help the Aureal up, Trina mumbled, "it's rather likely  
that lesbian lust was buried deep within us all this time, after all,  
we are a society of almost all women. Would the two of you like to  
play with each other?"

"Oh..." Dylora looked upon the Aureal military leader. "Perhaps, if  
the Mazken and Aureal are to unite..."

Staada smiled for the first time in her memory. "I look forward to the  
opportunity to learn more about what we just experienced."

Feeling positive of the situation, Kit pointed towards her bed. "Over  
there. Kat and I wish to bathe."

"Can we have more wine?" the Seducer commander inquired.

"Uh... yes." Grabbing the bottle from a nearby table, the Champion Of  
Cyrodiil said, "don't drink too much. You have no tolerance of it yet."

"Two down," Shantara grumbled, "thousands more to go..."

"Lord Sheogorath, forgive me," Staada blurted out, "but there is an  
urgent matter that needs your attention. It concerns the Aureal you-"

"Yes, I thought that might need to be taken care of."

"You do not understand, my Lord," the Saint explained, "she has been  
traumatized by the experience."

Katriana's heart sank. "I was afraid something like this might  
happen... you beat her severely, she may have taken it quite hard."

"Oh, uh... have her sent to my bath chamber."

"Excuse me?" Kat blurted out, surprised. "what do you have in mind?"

Taking another bottle of wine from the drawer, Kit responded, "perhaps  
this one might need my personal attention. That is, unless you mind?"

The Elf simply stared up at her lover. "Well...I know it's for the  
greater good, and I suppose if I show her I forgive her..."

Stumbling over a pile of scattered body armor lying haphazardly on  
the floor, Trina whined, "I'll find her and bring her here. Soon as  
I get dressed."

"Or we could go out naked," Shantara suggested, "Really give Haskill a  
headache. It'd serve him right for being so stuffy."

Slapping her friend's rear end, Trina replied, "just get dressed."

* * *

Huddled in shadow, out of sight, a lone Golden Saint hid herself away.  
Her god had been offended, she had made a mistake, and had been shown  
the angry hand of her Lord. Perhaps it had been deserved, being beaten  
and unable to move, for her crime almost cost a mortal their own life.

A soft hand took her by the arm. It was an unexpected sensation.

"You need to get up now, you can't sit there forever."

The voice had come from one of her own people, a face she didn't seem  
to know. Long hair and a smile gazed upon her, a strange sight  
to behold for one so used to discipline from the Aureal. This one did  
not wear her helmet or gauntlets, which for the Golden Saints was  
unusual.

"Please leave me alone."

"I know what happened to you," Shantara said softly. "We're going to  
make everything right. Just come with us."

"You..." The Saint noticed the Mazken standing beside this one. "Why  
is a Dark seducer here?"

Trina answered, "Shantara and I have been living in Cyrodiil for two  
years. We have come to end the old ways and bring a needed peace to  
the Shivering Isles. We have come home to help our sisters."

Leading her out of the main hall, into the bed chamber, Shantara  
asked, "what is your name?"

"Frela. Rank Auredel".

"Frela, would you remove your armor?" Unlocking the clasps of her  
own chest plate, Shantara's breasts fell free. The skirt dropped down,  
making a clinking sound as it bounced.

Confused, the Aureal asked, "why do you make such a request?"

As Trina stripped down, she responded, "it's time to shed old habits  
and traditions. We will start with your armor for now."

"Very well." Removing each peace slowly, unaware of what her nudity  
meant, the Aureal became aware of a low moan echoing from the other  
side of the room. "What is that sound?"

The sound was, of course, the commanders of the armies intimately  
exploring their bodies. "Do not worry about that right now," Trina  
responded. "All will be made clear shortly."

Pushing open the wooden door, the pair led the Aureal into the bath  
chamber where two naked women sat within steaming hot water. "Lord  
Sheogorath! I-"

"Please, join us."

"I do not understand."

Slowly fondling the confused Saint's breasts, Shantara explained, "our  
lord has a gift to give to her loyal servants. You're going to be  
enlightened."

"Why are you touching me like this?" Confused now more than before,  
Frela wondered if everyone had lost their minds.

"Don't you want me touching your body?"

"It's not- I mean to say-" Frela did not know quite what to make  
of this, but feeling her breasts squished and played with was  
a new experience, one she did not seem to object to. "Please,  
continue..."

Smiling wide, Trina stepped forth, hand reaching between the Saint's  
legs, slipping a finger into the folds and rubbing up and down. With  
her free hand, the Mazken held up a bottle. "Drink some of this."

Uncertain of how to respond, surprised to be in this situation, Frela  
did as she was told. "Please tell me what this is... what is this  
feeling?"

"Didn't know touching that spot felt so good, did you?" Shantara  
scolded her Deadric sister. "It's no wonder we're so angry and uptight  
all the time." Stepping forward, gently pushing Frela along, the  
Aureal led her to the water. "Sheogorath has something she wishes to  
do."

"Yes," Kit said, "I went too far. I wish to show you love, not hate."

"You're the one I-"

Katriana spoke, "I'm not mad at you. But you need to experience this,  
if you're to ever change."

Her muscular frame rising from the water, Kitrina took the Aureal's  
hand. "Will you allow me to show your heart something new?"

"This is quite strange," she replied. "Indeed, you are nothing like  
your predecessor to the throne."

No words. Leading the Golden Saint to the edge of the tub, Kit helped  
her lay down, balancing on her own knees in the water, bent over  
with her head in between the Daedra's legs. Kissing her right thigh,  
Kit moved upward until the Aureal's clit was within her mouth.

Refusing to be left out, Kat swam forward, poking a finger deep within  
the Champion's crotch, shouting out, "try to keep your knees steady!"  
as a second finger went in, twisting hard, inner vaginal walls  
massaged with such force as to make the Hero of Kvatch groan.

"I think whatever I drank is... oh, wow..."

Watching from the edge of the bath, Shantara and Trina could only  
rub themselves while their eyes watched with unbreakable interest.  
"Katriana's really giving it to her," the Mazken commented.

As the feeling of pleasure within her hips intensified, Frela began  
to cry out, gasping for breath. Whatever this feeling was, she wanted  
more of it. Was her body really capable of such feeling? Did her  
kind willingly suppress this desire?

As her tongue flicked around like crazy, Kit shoved forward, screaming  
loud, muffled thanks to the Golden Saint's dripping wet pussy filling  
her mouth. she cried out, "stop!"

"You're finished already, my love?"

"I would imagine your arm is quite tired from all of that," she  
scolded. "When I finish with her then I'll lick you."

* * *

Kitrina's mind was a foggy haze and the sudden brightness of the  
morning sun hurt like a thousand daggers within her own brain.  
Morning had come, but why was she feeling so terrible?

Body becoming alert, the Champion could feel a hard object held tight  
in her hand. It must be a wine bottle, only that could explain why  
it felt as if an ogre had punched her. Shifting in the bed, a heavy  
object impeded movement, resting between her legs. Whatever it  
was, it was quite heavy, perhaps large enough to be a person. Only  
Kit knew that her Elven lover would not fall asleep like this.

Staring down to see yellow hair, she whined, "what the hell is going  
on?" Sliding out from under the weight, Kit rolled over, foot out of  
bed, stepping on something other than carpet. "What now?"

Rolling over to see, the Madgod was puzzled to see a Dark Seducer  
laying prone and naked beside her bed. She was further puzzled upon  
realizing that her entire bed chamber was filled with several of her  
army, all naked, most passed out cold, and empty wine bottles  
scattered all around. Those that were not unconscious seemed engaged  
in carnal affairs with each other, or with themselves.

"Why does my head feel like it were crushed by a warhammer?"

Katriana's red hair was a mess. eyes opened, she whimpered, "by the  
Nine, what have we done?"

Stirring herself back to consciousness, Mazken commander Dylora  
blurted out, "oh, Load Sheogorath... load? Lord! I think... I think  
we shouldn't drink too much."

"No shit." Clapping loud, drawing the attention of any of them who  
could hear, Kitrina ordered, "get up! Get your armor on, get these-"  
pausing to belch, she continued, "get these damn bottles cleaned up  
and find my clothes! I need to meet with... what the hell his name  
is."

Kat asked, "you mean that old man who used to serve Jyggalag? Dead  
mouse? No, Dyus! I'd swear someone punched me in the face..."

"Everyone get yourselves sober! We need to ration out the alcohol  
from now on... it would be just fine if Mehrunes Dagon did invade,  
seeking my head, and my army was too busy playing with themselves  
because they were all drunk."

"It's not that bad," Kat muttered. "I'm sure this kind of thing  
happens in Sanguine's realm every day."

* * *

It was unusual for no one to be at the table by now. However, Haskill  
was quite aware of the contingent of guard that was sent to meet with  
Sheofgorath. But whatever was going on he had not been informed.

Marching out one by one, at least twenty of each Daedra exited the  
great hall of the palace, although the Chamberlain could have sworn  
that some were barely able to walk straight.

"Good morning, Lord Sheogorath," he greeted. "I will have breakfast  
sent out immediately."

"No time," Kit grumbled. "We're going to see Dyus. I want the  
townspeople gathered at the church tonight."

"I shall send word. May I ask what this is about?"

The Champion replied, "there are going to be changes. Severe changes.  
This my my realm and I will run it as I see fit. This hatred between  
both sides has to stop. I've begun with the army, but the people  
must be shown new ways."

Haskill felt uneasy, for major change could be drastic and hard, and  
could bring rebellion. "I wish you luck with what you intend to do,  
my Lord, I fear you will need all you can get."

* * *

Knifepoint Hollow was little more than a typical cave, for what may  
have stood before was long destroyed by Sheogorath. All that now  
remained was one man, who had been forbidden to die. One man,  
lonely, sitting in peace.

Peace no more. "Lord Sheogorath, this is a surprise," he greeted as  
two forms stepped into view. "I see you brought another with you,"  
he muttered, uninterested in the woman in the green dress.

"A surprise? I thought you could see everything of the future?"

"I could, once... why have you come here? Am I to finally be free  
of this curse?" with a sigh, Dyus grumbled, "of course not. You have  
yet to become a Daedric Prince. Very well, what is it you wish of me?"

Kit asked, "how did Sheogorath grant you immortality?"

"This is unexpected. tell me, who do you wish to curse with this?"

"Her."

without changing his expression, Dyus explained, "it was his will.  
Nothing more, nothing less. If you're asking how Daedric powers work,  
I can not answer that. The realm of each Prince bends to the will and  
whim of its master. One day, when this realm has changed you, you will  
know everything there is to know. I can only hope that, on that day,  
you will free me of this eternal existence."

"When will that be?" Kit demanded. "I must know!"

Staring her down, the old man responded harshly, "I can not tell you  
for you had to go against what I had predicted and now... now, I can  
not determine the future. Your chaotic nature proved Sheogorath  
correct. I had accurately surmised the action of every living creature,  
in Oblivion and Mundus, but then your impulsive actions undid all of  
that and now I do not know what the future holds, for you or anyone.  
I can say, however, that the fate of Tamriel itself may have been  
cursed by your decisions."

Gripping his robes by the neck, she screamed out, "what do you mean?  
You tell me..."

Unwilling to show fear, for he could not die, Dyus told her, "you  
were to fail in your quest to remake the staff of Sheogorath. You  
would have returned to Tamriel, the Greymarch would have concluded  
as it had before. Martin Septim would have sacrificed himself to stop  
the invasion of Mehrunes Dagon, and you would have become Empress in  
his place. The Empire would have thrived under your rule."

"I-" Releasing her grip, Kitrina begged to know, "why didn't you tell  
me?"

"Whatever you may think of me," he said, "I did not tell you because  
I was certain that it would have been pointless. My predictions held  
true since the beginning. There was no need. It was your violation of  
my predictions that changed everything. If I had told you of your  
fate, would you have thrown the staff away and abandoned this realm?  
Would you have been able to choose? To allow those here to die and  
suffer? You proved you could do as you wished, to choose your own  
fate. The fate of the Empire is now uncertain."

Katriana could see her lover's heart sinking. "I do not know what to  
say..."

"It..." Kit's eyes squeezed tight as she inhaled deep. "It wasn't your  
fault. Maybe it was mine. I had to gain power, I had to become  
stronger, to had to break rules."

"If you have what you came for," Dyus muttered, "please leave me in  
peace."

"Yes. Come, Kat, we need to go now."

* * *

Normally the Sacellum Arden-Sul was only lightly crowded during  
sermons, for even the devout worshipers of Arden-Sul had things to  
take care of at all times. Both priests hardly expected to see the  
walls packed to bursting, even if Sheogorath herself had requested  
it.

"The seats are full, the aisles are full of people standing, where are  
we going to put everyone?" Arctus demanded to know.

Dervenin, high priest of Mania, shouted back, "leave me alone!"

"That attitude is not healthy!"

Both men were shocked to hear the statement. Walking past, purple dress  
illuminated in the light of the Cold Flame, Kitrina stood between  
both altars. "Listen to me!"

Without question, voices silenced and faces turned forward. "As  
everyone knows, I am ruler of this realm now. the man you knew as  
Sheogorath is no more, for he has become Jyggalag once again and  
will not be coming back. This realm was given to me. Both sides of  
madness are in constant struggle, and it is time for resolution."

Stepping to the massive wall of blue flame, Kitrina took the power  
into her own body, the Cold Flame of Agnon burning with a pure energy  
that felt as if it could move mountains, or even mount movements.

It was that second sentiment that was of interest to the warrior woman.

Dervenin smiled. "I see she has favored Mania! I had one day hope for-"

Hands raised, each pointed to one corner of the ancient structure,  
the flame was divided, sent rippling into each chamber, burning bright  
for both sides. "What has she done?" the Bosmer Priest cried out in  
disbelief.

"That is impossible!" Arctus screamed.

"And yet I have done it!" Turning to the citizens, staff held firm,  
Sheogorath proclaimed, "the rivalry between both lands must end.  
The Shivering Isles must be united or this land will crumble."

Murmurs began, as she had expected. "Regardless of what you may think,  
the other side is not out to get you!"

"This is insane!" Dervenin was not prepared for this.

"I thought you liked insanity?" she responded with a smirk. "You  
recall the incident in Bliss several days ago? Someone close to me  
was injured, they could have died. The same could happen to any of you  
because hatred has spread."

Earil stood up, shouting out, "death is a vicious monster! I do indeed  
recall what happened, and I don't wish for that to happen any further!  
Anything that allows us to live longer is fine by me!"

The mad Argonian, Raven Biter, stood and proclaimed, "you all just  
want to get close to my wife!"

"why would anyone want your ugly hag of a wife," Dumag gro-Bonk cried  
out, "when I'm far prettier?"

"Not this again," the Argonian grunted. "You are not a little girl,  
you are an Orc, and a man. You are a homosexual, not a pretty woman."

Cutter, unwilling to allow her rival any peace, mumbled, "certainly  
not pretty."

A loud tapping echoed like thunder. Kitrina slammed the butt of her  
staff to the floor. "This is exactly what I mean! I am in charge  
and I have to stop this! If anyone absolutely doesn't want to get  
along with their neighbors they're always free to go back to Cyrodiil  
and reject what I propose!"

"NO! Only a fool would go back there! You would have to be completely  
insane beyond salvation to want to live there!"

Eyes turned to the Altmer who had let his voice be heard. "I don't  
recognize you," Kit said. "Which side do you hail from?"

"Neither..." The answer caused commotion. "I fled here from Bravil  
last week," the young man answered. "A group of Altmer thugs tried to  
murder me simply because I worship Talos! My own kind want me dead!  
I can see that Tamriel is doomed, a victim of the hatred that threatens  
this land as well! If you wish to change things I will gladly offer  
myself into your service, Lord Sheogorath!"

"Wait," she begged, "how did you get past the gate keeper?"

"You mean the large creature?" The Altmer explained, "I simply asked it  
if I could be allowed free passage into the realm."

"That must be a joke," Cutter said with a groan. "How did you ask it?

"I did not have a weapon drawn, I simply approached the beast."

Kit asked, "what is your name?"

"Alendril," he responded.

"I suppose the idea is so crazy no one ever thought of it. Strange.  
But how did you-" Kit fell short of completing her thought. "Right,  
I never locked the gates. Completely forgot to."

Alendril continued, "please, there is a difference between madness  
and stupidity! United, this land could thrive and revel in the many  
shades of insanity, but divided it will only lead to bloodshed and  
death. I would also think that you people, above all others, could  
prove yourselves better than those who choose to stay in Tamriel!"

The sentiment hurt Cutter worse than any blade, for she cried out,  
"if you are implying that I can not live above the standards of those  
mortals then you are mistaken!"

"I... suppose we can try..." Dervenin let out a sigh. "We have a new  
Madgod, anyone who expected things to stay the same would have to be  
crazy..."

"I cannot and will not tolerate hatred and violence. I cannot rule the  
realm like this. I have begun to show the Mazken and Aureal unity,  
but I expect it will take time. as for you... I know SOME of you  
are friends!"

"I have always thought the bickering was stupid," Ahjazda shouted.  
"Tilse and I have been friends for many years. We run the shops and  
share goods."

The Dunmer woman stood up. "I am in favor of uniting the lands. We are  
not all the same, we indulge in different shades of madness, but we  
should not be so divided. We could start by tearing down the wall  
between the halves of the city. And I could have the pieces of it!"

Her suggestion slowly spread amongst the people of New Sheoth for  
the cries of "tear down the wall. Tear down the wall. TEAR DOWN THE  
WALL!" grew louder and louder.

Tove the Unrestful, a burly Nord who had lived much of his life  
here, screamed out, "it's not gonna tear itself down. Grab hammers,  
chisels and whatever you can get your hands on and get to work!"

As the crowds fled the church, Haskill approached his master. "I am  
quite impressed. I had expected everyone to try to kill you, or each  
other."

Approaching the Altmer newcomer, Kitrina said, "I welcome you, and I am  
aware of the situation with the Altmer. a member of the Knights of the  
Nine was attached only days ago."

"Dreadful... they're gaining power and I don't like it."

* * *

Staada sat with Dylora, a show of camaraderie amongst the armies that  
had begun to form amongst the Aurela and Mazken. "Alright," Kit  
said, "both sides agree to allow each other free passage through  
Cylarne, correct?"

"We have made such an agreement," the Saint commander responded. "Now  
that the Cold Flame of Agnon burns bright over both sides of New  
Sheoth there is a sense of peace that spreads quickly among my kind."

"Of course," Dylora cut in, "it will take time to spread this message  
to everyone, and there may be those who resist and defect."

"I expect that may be the case," Kit replied, "but hopefully it will  
not be a large problem. However, I do have a plan that may make both  
sides happy, and possibly show them that I am their friend. It  
regards the males. Have all male Golden saints and Dark seducers sent  
to the Fringe immediately."

"You are... not expelling them from the realm?" Staada asked.

"No, but they are not soldiers and your society has yet to look  
favorably upon males. I have a use for them that will separate them  
from you."

The Seducer commander responded, "I see. Once our alliance has grown  
sufficiently, we will begin patrolling the Isles in pairs of one  
Aureal and one Mazken. with the changes in New Sheoth, crossing the  
realm freely should no longer be a problem. I also wish to request  
a meeting place of neutral ground for both of our armies, one that  
would allow relaxation and intimacy."

"Oh, dear," Kat groaned. "I knew they were going to ask for a place  
to have sex..."

"I think that can be arranged," the Champion replied eagerly. "It would  
be preferable to going at it in the woods or in public. Although the  
supply of alcohol will be very limited."

"Please do not mention alcohol," Staada said with a worried grunt.  
"Forgive me, Lord Sheogorath, but it seems we are very susceptible  
to the effects of wine."

Katriana shrugged. "After this morning, I would think you'd not want  
to get drunk again. Getting everyone dressed and out of the room was  
such a chore."

"Regarding the Dremora," the Mazken said to change the subject, "we  
shall keep careful watch on him. He is not to be trusted."

Kit shot back, "I have already said that if he falls out of line even  
once he is to be killed. I trust him less than you do."

Dremora were the opposites of the Aureal and Mazken, they favored  
male dominance and violence. Their loyalty to Mehrunes Dagon was strong  
and their bloodthirst frightening. "Both of you were open to  
experiencing kindness, compassion and love. I do not believe their  
kind will ever be able to embrace such feelings."

"Having experienced mortal pleasure," the Golden Saint commander  
responded, "I have a new respect for them. I had always seen mortals  
as inferior and yet we were so blinded and lived such meaningless,  
simple existences." The thought that she'd spent three thousand years  
or more without knowing that it was like to feel pleasure was  
enough to make the Aureal depressed. "Perhaps the previous Sheogorath  
derived pleasure from our lack of knowing what enjoyment was."

Unsure of what to say, Kit only voiced, "arrange for the males to be  
sent to the Fringe at once."

* * *

"This is... pathetic?"

The males were barely enough to matter. Very few existed on either  
side, and those that did exist were short and scrawny. It seemed as  
if they existed only to be a joke played on the Saints and Seducers,  
and recalling that Sheogorath had Kitrina do in Border Watch, and her  
experiences with the staff of the Everscamp, she could barely claim  
to be surprised. was it any wonder that the armies hated each other?  
Or that the residents hated each other?

"Okay... I have a task for you, and... I will be placing an open  
invitation to the people of Mundus soon, for any who wish to flee the  
collapse of the Empire and come here."

"How are we involved in this plan?" a raspy Aureal male voice inquired.

"Yes... you will greet newcomers and help them prepare to leave the  
fringe and live in the Shivering Isles. You will also deal with any  
undesirable newcomers that may cause trouble such as thieves and  
any member of the Dark Brotherhood. There is also brewing situation  
with Altmer who are attacking others of their race, you will deal with  
any of them who may come here."

"Forgive me, My Lord," one of the Mazken asked, "but I have noticed  
strange behavior in the Mazken ranks. They are becoming friends with  
the Aureal. I do not understand!"

The Madgod answered, "you will, one day. I'm running things my own  
way. You will be important here, not merely in the way of your  
sisters."

"Important," a Saint repeated. "I like the idea of being useful for  
a change."

* * *

Chancellor Ocato took the letter, cracking the seal and reading. "This  
is interesting... is he serious?"

"I have no reason to believe otherwise," the Champion of Cyrodiil  
responded.

"If Sheogorath wishes to offer sanctuary..." Ocato was hesitant.  
"I will put word out. I am somewhat loathe to make this gesture  
know," he whined, "but I know what is happening. I am not blind. I  
am doing my best to maintain the Empire but it is a grim possibility  
that I will fail. You say an Altmer refugee recently fled to  
Sheogorath's realm?"

She answered, "that is true."

"Damn. I will have notices placed in each city immediately. I thank  
you for bringing this to my attention, it may very well save a few  
innocent lives."

* * *

"This is not something I expected to see," exclaimed Phintias,  
proprietor of the only book store in the Imperial City, as he  
inspected a large stack of books. Mankar Camoran's commentaries, all  
four volumes. Many copies of the first two were piled high, a few  
of the rare third, and one copy of the fourth volume. "I've never  
even seen the fourth before."

"These are the copies I took from the Mythic Dawn. All pre-owned.  
You... may find specks of dried blood on some."

"I see." Normally, books taken by killing would have made the Redguard  
uneasy, but knowing who had died seemed to make it right, in his eyes.

Kitrina said, "I have no use for them, just pay me whatever you feel is  
reasonable."

'That fourth volume could leave me broke,' he thought. "Hmm... tell  
you what. I have a... very rare book in my possession I could trade  
you for them. It seems to be a magic volume that would allow one to  
duplicate any item they touched."

"Really... so what have you not used this book to make yourself rich?"  
she said with a smirk. "I can't trade for useless paper."

"It's not that... though truth be told I'm not even certain the  
book works. Let me show you." Pulling the dusty tome from under  
the counter, Phintias opened to reveal the confusing text within.  
"I can't even begin to understand this."

"I see what you mean." Considering the trade, Kitrina grunted, "if  
this book works it could be quite useful. If not then I have traded  
a rare collection for nothing."

Pushing the book forth, the salesman responded, "you would be gambling.  
Is the risk worth the reward?"

Risk and reward, two concepts the Chamoion of Cyrodiil was quite  
familiar with. Sometimes good, sometimes bad were their outcomes.  
Grabbing the old book, she said, "enjoy your collection"

* * *

"Are you ready?"

Holding the scroll, placing each of the required items into a bag held  
in the other hand, Katriana read aloud the ancient Ayleid words. In  
seconds, a glowing mist enveloped the half-Elf.

"Did it work?" Kitrina begged to know.

Checking the scroll, all the Elf could see was blank paper. Her bag  
was now empty, its contents consumed by the ancient spell. "I don't  
know, I... don't really feel different but I guess it did?"

Taking her lover's hand, the Madgod exclaimed, "I suppose time will  
tell."

* * *

Epilogue

4E 201

It was time to go home. Pelagius' eternal suffering had been cured.  
CURED! Of all things. His people had begged him back, and the Madgod  
supposed it was time to return, and after all, his tea party companion  
was no longer available.

Packing himself to a nearby camp site, Sheogorath bent down and nudged  
a sleeping woman curled up in a bedroll. "It's time to get up, we're  
going home."

Rolling over, the red-haired half-Ayleid woman looked up. "Already?"

Concentrating and thinking, Sheogorath's form shifted from the shape  
of a man to that of a muscular woman, how the Madgod once looked long  
ago. "Sorry about that, sometimes I'd forget my own head if it weren't  
attached. Some adventurer came here to tell me I was wanted back in  
the Shivering Isles. I had him perform some menial tasks and the  
bastard actually took care of poor Pelagius and his mentally ill  
delusions, so I suppose he's not going to be much of a  
conversationalist anymore."

"I would have been there but I was just so exhausted..." Kat groaned.

"HA! I did keep you up late! Ah well, better go make sure things  
are still standing. I didn't even get to tell Pelagius about my trip  
to the First Era!"

Kat's eyes rolled. "Not everyone needs to hear about your conversation  
with the severed head of Pelinal Whitestrake."

"I do enjoy telling that one, don't I?" Taking her hand, Kitrina merely  
stated, "it's time to go! They're waiting for us!"

* * *

End notes:

The character feels like a bit of a Mary Sue, but that's in the nature  
of the Elder Scrolls, I suppose. Your hero character can do anything  
and everything. Join all the guilds and become the master of each,  
save Tamriel, be the strongest. However, for all this, the Empire still  
crumbled despite a character that could do almost anything.

It wasn't enough for her to believe her decisions doomed the Empire-  
she had to be told. I worked with and around lore, trying too hard not  
to bend things. Tamriel still crumbles away and there's nothing she  
could do about it. She's far from a perfect character, with few manners  
and little shame. Her hands are hardly clean. She was a perfect puppet  
for the Nine when they needed a champion.


End file.
